Zack was hot. Unfairly so.
He exuded a kind of effortless sensuality, like someone who knew exactly what to say, how to move, how to make the world tilt in his favor. He was built strong, broad-shouldered, like he could carry the weight of the world on his back and still walk with that quiet, unshaken confidence.
This was the man Logan had turned to.
And now, he was standing in front of Adrian, watching him, measuring him.
The air between them felt electric—charged with something undefined.
Adrian swallowed, forcing himself to push past the sudden, unwelcome awareness in his chest. He shouldn’t be thinking about how the dim hospital light cast soft shadows on Zack’s face, or how the loose strands of his hair made him look like he’d just stepped out of a storm.
No.
This was Logan’s ghost.
Adrian clenched his jaw, pushing past the exhaustion, the wariness, the sickness that looped around his ribs like a snake.
He was dying.
He could feel it, creeping in slowly, curling its fingers around his breath, his energy, his strength. The chemotherapy had stolen so much already—his hair, his appetite, the weight he had once carried effortlessly. The poison ran through his veins like fire, burning away the sickness, but also burning away him.
He had spent months drifting between pain and hope, between defiance and despair. Some days, he felt strong enough to fight. Other days, the thought of surrender felt like a quiet mercy.
But Logan... Logan made it impossible to let go.
And now, Zack was here.
Adrian took a slow breath, leveling his gaze.
“I… hah.” Zack exhaled sharply. He shifted his weight, his dark eyes flickering with something Adrian couldn’t quite place. “Logan told me about you… about the cancer. You already know that. I just—” He hesitated, rubbing his shoulder. “I wanted to check how you’re feeling.”
Adrian studied him, the way he took a small step backward, as if unsure whether to stay or go.
“Fine, I guess.” He shrugged, forcing the words out, though they felt hollow. His gaze lingered on Zack for a second too long before he pulled it away. It was too hard—too painful—seeing him and knowing that Logan had chosen this man when he left.
Zack let out a quiet breath, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I figure Logan must’ve mentioned me, based on how you haven’t even asked who the hell I am.” He bit the inside of his cheek, watching Adrian with careful precision.
“He did.” Adrian nodded, his voice calm, but there was a storm beneath the surface.
Silence stretched between them, thin and fragile.
“So…” Zack cleared his throat. “How are you, really? Are you going to be okay?”
Adrian swallowed. He had expected the question. What he hadn’t expected was the concern in Zack’s voice. It softened the edges of something sharp inside him.
“I’m not sure,” Adrian confessed. The truth tasted strange on his tongue, unfamiliar. He wanted to ask Zack if he was here to check how long Logan would be tied to him, but something in Zack’s face made him stop. There was no jealousy, no hidden motive, just quiet, steady worry.
Zack’s expression faltered. His face dropped.
“How’s he dealing with it?” Zack asked, his voice softer now, almost fragile.
“Better than me.” Adrian tried to smile, but it barely made it past his lips. “Logan will be back soon.”
The silence between them thickened, pressing into the room like a held breath.
Adrian let out a slow exhale. “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”
Zack nodded, his jaw tensing. “When he told me last night, I started feeling—” He stopped, looking away for a moment before turning back, his eyes darker than before. “I was terrified. That’s why I’m here. I needed to see how you’re doing.”
